A familiar voice
After a 400-mile drive with a few stops, we reached a destination – not our final. Another 200 or so more, one more point of stop. Then after that we would cross a border, travel more hundreds of miles, sail on a ferry, and another, and close to a thousand extended miles of road travel, just then our headed end of journey will conclude.
Six hours of non-bending and the inflexible upright sit behind the wheel, there was nothing more anticipating than the softness and comfort of a white-linen covered bed. A hot shower without a question came with desirability.
Settling on the left side of the queen bed, and by the nightstand where the phone sat, I longed to call someone. I ached to hear a voice on the other end. Excitedly I would talk.
Incessantly I would narrate the seemingly endless drive that came with the most exciting and exhilarating panorama of mountain ranges - of views far and up close; of cascading waterfalls and streaming rivers, brooks and creeks; of rounded and kidney-shaped lakes; of fallen and risen trees, mostly conifers; of even or crooked roads, and road signs that guide, point and calculate to make the arduous travel comprehensive and comprehendible. Then there would be the amazing and wondrous world of wildlife appearing from far and near. I would describe old gas stations, neon-lit motels, eccentric folks who smiled toothless and all- in between stops. These and many more sights, sounds, smell and feel.
I longed to hear a familiar voice whom I could eagerly and perpetually describe my experiences and adventures; he who has traveled this same journey before, yet willingly would invisibly smile from stretched mileage between us. He would listen because he, too, longed to hear a familiar voice.
Six hours of non-bending and the inflexible upright sit behind the wheel, there was nothing more anticipating than the softness and comfort of a white-linen covered bed. A hot shower without a question came with desirability.
Settling on the left side of the queen bed, and by the nightstand where the phone sat, I longed to call someone. I ached to hear a voice on the other end. Excitedly I would talk.
Incessantly I would narrate the seemingly endless drive that came with the most exciting and exhilarating panorama of mountain ranges - of views far and up close; of cascading waterfalls and streaming rivers, brooks and creeks; of rounded and kidney-shaped lakes; of fallen and risen trees, mostly conifers; of even or crooked roads, and road signs that guide, point and calculate to make the arduous travel comprehensive and comprehendible. Then there would be the amazing and wondrous world of wildlife appearing from far and near. I would describe old gas stations, neon-lit motels, eccentric folks who smiled toothless and all- in between stops. These and many more sights, sounds, smell and feel.
I longed to hear a familiar voice whom I could eagerly and perpetually describe my experiences and adventures; he who has traveled this same journey before, yet willingly would invisibly smile from stretched mileage between us. He would listen because he, too, longed to hear a familiar voice.
posted by Marian "Ylang2" at 11:02 PM
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